I wonder how much has really changed since Jonny Gammage was killed for driving while black.

Just a reminder of what this phony, venal, corrupt sack of shit looked like before all the plastic surgeries and injections:

It looks like “controlling” is the new “bitch.”

Hillary 2020 is clickbait, designed to get MAGAts and Branch Bernidians all fired up and get Mark Stein on the Sunday talk shows.

I was saying this to MrChicklet last night. NBC was looking for an excuse, and she handed them one on a silver platter with sides of caviar and champagne.

She doesn’t get a cookie for this, but I’m still glad if it helps send Blackburn into the dumpster. And I’m enjoying the #MAGAt incel meltdown at finding out the only Aryan princess they’ve got is their hand.

I used to live in Northeast Ohio. They’ve got some crazy conservative women out there who have no problem showing their crazy. Like the infamous “Deer can’t read” blogger who loved to share her verbal diarrhea.

I explained to DH when we moved from his native Ohio to the east coast and started spending time in my native New England that it’s not all Thoreau, Emerson, Garrison, and Alcott. Look at Marky Mark Wahlberg. Drive into rural Maine, which we did en route to PEI a few summers ago, and you’ll see as many Confederate…

My sister was a teen in the ‘70s. She hated brown polyester because she worked in fast food for a couple of summers, and that was part of the uniform. She’d sweat buckets and the smell of the deep fryer never completely came out of the fabric.

I have an aversion to leopard print. When I hit my teens, my boobs were huge, which often meant having to shop in the women’s section of the store. This was the early ‘80s, and options for anyone over a size 12 were limited. No cute print shirts for me. It was either dull solid pastels or loud Lawn Guyland nana…

My first reaction as well. My mom and sister went all in during the ‘70s phase of thin brows, and the result (their brows never really grew back) kept me from making that mistake in the 90s.

Shoutout to Avon Lake! I lived there for about 7 years in the 45s.

Reasons I Sleep in on Sunday, Part the Infinity.

I think it may have been a rip-the-bandaid-off thing for Kate. She started the episode wanting her father’s urn at the guestbook table. After her realization, she may have felt she needed to do something big to move forward.

Done. He was a big. damn. hero.

Imagine the heads exploding if PP hired Michelle Obama.

The only way she could have been more white is if she started telling stories about St. Olaf.

Who does Ivanka think she’s fooling? The mouth-breathing Deplorables who voted for her dad, and the feather-brained twits who see her as “aspirational.”

Was never really crazy about eggnog until I tried Arethusa’s. Grate some fresh nutmeg on it and it’s a tiny glass of decadent goodness.

Also, botox.